


You're Not Alone

by Swiftblight



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Feral Ford AU, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Recovery, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swiftblight/pseuds/Swiftblight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weirdmagedon takes longer than a week to beat and by the time the Pines family recovers Ford he's... different.</p><p>(Drabbles for the Feral Ford AU, not necessarily in chronological order. References to past Bill/Ford abuse.)<br/>[As of Finale, non-canon.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Alone

Things were probably never going to be the same after the Apocalypse but then again, had anyone expect them to be? Perhaps the most miraculous thing was that no one had died. Hurt? Sure. Traumatized for life, definitely. But after everything was squared away and the incredibly annoying dream demon defeated, they were thankful that no services needed to be held.

The shack itself suffered pretty hard from the end of the world, but nothing hard work and pure stubbornness couldn’t fix. Just like the rest of the town it was recovering. Not everything, nor everyone, could be so lucky.

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan!” Dipper ran into the room with wide eyes, a bit out of breath, “Quick I- phew, you need to- he’s…”

“Whoa there hold the horses kid, what do I need’ta do now? He who?” Stan turned away from the exhibit he’d been setting up, concern slowly crawling in his gut. Those few days spent keeping everyone safe in the Mystery Shack had made him quick to fear danger. It brought back all the instincts that kept him alive during the 10 years after he’d been kicked out of his childhood home.

“It’s Great Uncle Ford. Mabel and I were upstairs and then we heard this noise, but then we when we saw who it was and… I tried to talk to him but… well… you’ll see.”

Stanley frowned and started towards the stairs with dread in his gut. One of the casualties of the Apocalypse happened to be his brother. Which wasn’t to say that he was dead but… he hadn’t gotten out of the chaos unscathed. Beating Bill didn’t happen right away, even with all the determination of two 12 year olds and that entire time Stanford had been imprisoned by the megalomaniac corn chip. Something had happened up there in that pyramid. Something unforgivable. Sure, the exacts of what went down were still shrouded in mystery but what little they’d seen made him grind his teeth.

Mabel greeted him in the hallway, her expression tipping him off further to prepare himself. He doesn’t have to ask before she is giving him a report.

“Okay so, not as bad as some of them! Nothing’s broken exactly.”

“Broken? What’d he do, throw things? Did he hurt either of you kids?” 

“Nonono-” Mabel waved off the concerns with her over-sized sleeve. “This is more like that time after Wendy told Dipper that his crush was suuuuper creepy and it wasn’t gonna work out and then he moped around for like three whole days!”

“I did not mope! I just.. was doing a lot of work, I got tired, can’t a guy get some rest around here!” Dipper loudly whispered from behind Stan, glaring daggers at his sister. Sensing another sibling squabble, Stanley stepped between them, bending down on one knee to get level with the pair.

“Alright, now, how’s about you two run along and let me deal with him? Go, I dunno, throw rocks at each other outside.” His mind was already thinking to what laid behind that door.

“But Grunkle Stan, we wanna help! Great Uncle Ford’s been all… weird ever since we got him back. Isn’t there something we can do?” Mabel pleaded with him, her tiny hands resting on his knee while Dipper nodded in solidarity behind her. The level of concern and love they had not only for each other, but for himself and Ford… well, it made his heart do all sorts of weird things. Things that probably it shouldn’t be doing at his age, damn thing was probably gonna give out on him one day. He sighed and scratched at his nose, thinking.

“Okay… don’t know what to expect in there, but it’s… what, two thirty already? Could handle a couple sandwiches though, one for each hand, think ya can do that for your grunkle, sweetie?” She enthusiastically nodded her head and Stan grinned. “Dipper, you’re in charge of making sure they are only half glitter at most.” The kid smirked and Mabel punched his shoulder a bit roughly. 

“Hah! Good luck with that brobro, you can’t stop true culinary vision from being born!” She darted down the stairs without another word, her twin hot on her heels. Good. That would keep them busy and out of earshot for a while. Give Stanley time to deal with whatever was beyond the door. He took a deep breath, mentally reminding himself that it was just his brother… or at least what was left of him.

Stan wasn’t surprised when he pushed open the door to find his twin laying on the floor. He didn’t react to the sound and continued running his fingers against the fibers. No, he wasn’t surprised, but he was sad, and a little bit angry once he noticed exactly which design adorned the rug.

“Ford. Hey, you uh… you okay in here?” He ventured, speaking softly so that he wouldn’t startle his twin. Stanford’s head snapped up anyway though, wide eyes meeting his, and he tightened his grip on the doorknob. Wherever Ford was mentally right now, it wasn’t the house. His gaze was stuck in some middling distance that meant he was reliving a memory. Stan had to handle this carefully. While these moments were some of the few times Stanford would talk, it was like interacting with someone stuck in a nightmare. Probably exactly what it was, too. The raw scratches down the side of Stanford’s face told him this wasn’t a pleasant memory. 

“Hey, hey, you know where you are buddy?” Keep your voice soft, keep it steady, let him re-adjust. “You’re at the Mystery Shack, you’re home, he can’t hurt you any-”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Ford babbled quickly. “He didn’t hurt me. He- I was … I was his favorite. I’m good.” The words came without inflection, a repeated mantra dredged up from his tormented mind. Stan let out a sigh from his nose; great. This was one of those fits. Hearing how his twin spoke about that monster... Alright, you can do this, you can handle this Stan ol’ buddy…

“Stanford. Dontcha remember the state you were in when we got you back? You had scabs from where that demon chained you to a wall for cryin’ out loud.”

“Self inflicted. Only cut because I was trying to get away, didn’t hurt when I stopped- when I was good. If I was good he took care of me. Doesn’t do any good to fight, why fight, just be good. It’s so much easier to be good.” Ford sunk down to the carpet again, his hands tracing the gold lines that made up the design. Stan could have sworn he’d thrown that thing out after everything that had happened but… apparently his brother wasn’t so easily deterred. “He said he loved me-”

“That bastard was torturing you, Sixer! He didn’t love you, and thank riddance he’s gone now or I’d break him in half all over again for what he did to ya!” A whimper escaped him before Stanford hid his face against the floor. Stan felt his anger dissipate like a cloud of steam. Oops. It really didn’t help to yell at the man, but sometimes… He couldn’t help it. He remembered every wound he’d found on Ford’s body after they brought him back… and every bite he got from his twin trying to bandage them up.

He moved forward and sunk to his knees beside Stanford, a hand coming around to wrap over his brother’s shoulders. “Hey, Ford, I’m sorry I-” His brother was shaking under his palm, Jesus. “When I think of how he treated you I just get pretty fired up. I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that. Shh…” After a moment’s hesitation he reached out and ran his fingers through the silver stripe in Ford’s hair. It was cheating, maybe, but he couldn’t argue with the results when his brother stopped shaking. When his brother leaned into the touch with a soft and broken sound that made his chest constrict.

They stayed like that for a while longer, Stanley just comforting his twin until the other man sat up. For a heartbeat all he wanted was to wrap his arms around his brother like they were children again and Stan was protecting him from the world. Those days were long gone now and the thought filled him with bitter nostalgia. He reluctantly pulled his hand back and stood with a cough. Stanford was still looking down at the carpet and dodging his gaze but at least he was aware of his surroundings. Stan figured that was an improvement. “Feel better bro?” 

A nod.

“You wanna go back downstairs and veg out to some history drama?”

Another nod. Stan smiled.

“Want to split a bag of toffee peanuts and cuddle?” That earned him a disgusted look at least, a glimmer of his twin’s usual self. Stanford opened his mouth as if to speak but nothing came out. His face twisted into one of frustration and he looked down again.

“Just the cuddle, huh?” 

A relieved nod. Stanley held out his hand to help Ford up, but the other man gave it one look and stood on his own. It hurt a little but he figured he couldn’t win them all. 

“That’s alright. I sent the kids down earlier to make some late lunch. Probably is almost edible. We can have a bit of family time! Laugh at those old fuddyduddies together, huh?” He started out the door and heard an amused snort behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> [As of May 12th, 2016, changed to one chapter and considered abandoned.]


End file.
